


A Doll's House

by cherie_morte



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 04:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10609680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherie_morte/pseuds/cherie_morte
Summary: AU:Jensen owns Puzzles Toys, a high-end store specializing in making and selling dollhouses. Jared is a regular; he stops by every few days with his daughter, Emma. They visit so often that Jensen can't help starting to suspect it's not just toys bringing them back.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Repost of fic originally posted [here](http://infatuated-ink.livejournal.com/90746.html). Art by [cassiopeia7](http://cassiopeia7.livejournal.com/) found [here](http://cassiopeia7.livejournal.com/408568.html).

The child is a hurricane.

In Jensen's line of work, you get to know every type of kid there is in the world, from the eerily quiet to the exhaustingly loud. He's had little businessmen walk into his shop and carefully bargain for the best toy they could squeeze out of their parents and he's had brats kick and scream and refuse to budge from the floor until their battered parents surrendered to their whims. He's watched all these interactions closely—there's not really much else to do during the day—and he considers himself a bit of an expert on classifying children. Jensen knows a hurricane when he sees one.

They're rare, even for Jensen to spot. These are the kids who sweep into a place and shake everything up just by being there. They aren't necessarily loud, though Jensen's never seen a shy one. Not spoiled or ill-behaved—at least it's not a requirement. But you can't ignore them, not even when they're quiet; they're built for attention and generally come with one or two adults trailing them, equal parts frustrated and charmed by the firecracker they've got on their hands. 

This one is no different. Jensen feels her presence before he hears the jingling at the door and looks up to see her—all three feet of her. Long brown curls all the way down her back, a big, neat bow sitting on top of her head, her pink dress matching the bow perfectly. She hasn't got a single wrinkle or stain on it, not one curl is out of place. She's talking away at a million words a minute, and she's pulling a man behind her, one hand on the door and the other wrapped up in his. She drags him into the store a little like she's walking a dog, and he's got that lost-parent look on his face, like he's just along for the ride and he knows it. She's probably five or six, though she seems to be taking whatever she's talking about very seriously.

She pauses in her chatter for a moment, nodding at Jensen behind the counter with comical dignity and poise. "Good afternoon, sir," she says.

Jensen blinks a few times, then looks up at her dad (assuming that's who this guy is). He's taken a break from being overwhelmed to smile and shrug at whatever expression Jensen's wearing. He's absurdly hot, especially with the way his face lights up with this grin. Jensen shakes his head and turns his attention back to the little girl to say hello, but she seems to have lost interest in him in the few seconds he wasn't focused on her.

"Don't you see?" she asks, clearly distressed. "Mr. Frog and Coco the Gorilla are perfectly happy together, and everyone thinks that's great, but none of them even cares that Stacy the Unicorn has been in love with Mr. Frog forever. She's much prettier and nicer, but Froggy's too wrapped up in Coco to even notice."

Jensen snorts, and the guy who's with the girl meets his eyes. He's making a concerned face, like the plight of the toys his daughter is ranting about deeply affects him, but his eyes are playful. "Of course, princess, that's terrible. Why don't we get Stacy a nice boyfriend so she can forget about Mr. Frog?"

"I agree completely," she says solemnly before turning her attention to Jensen again. "Where can I find the stuffed animals?" she asks. "It's very important."

Jensen points. "Down that aisle, take a right when you get to the end."

"Thanks," the dad says in passing as he's pulled hastily in the direction Jensen indicated.

Jensen can hear her continuing with the stuffed toy soap opera for a few seconds before the sound fades into the muted radio Jensen's had going for the last few hours. It's been a calm day—even in the middle of the summer in a toy store, there aren't many people shopping on Wednesdays—and, truth be told, Jensen's maybe a little sorry to lose the entertainment.

An old lady comes up after five more minutes of boredom, asking about a Lego set for her grandson's birthday, and Jensen helps her, leaving the comfortable seclusion of his register to show her where to find what she's looking for and help her choose from the embarrassingly large selection of Legos he keeps stocked.

The little girl and her dad are standing by the counter when he gets back, and Jensen can't help smiling at the fact that she's too distracted by her new toy to pay him any attention at all.

"Did you find what you were looking for okay?" Jensen asks, directing the question at the guy.

He smiles softly and nods, patting the little girl on the back. "Emma, let me have Artie for a second so I can pay for him."

She hands the toy up, and her father passes him to Jensen.

"A rhinoceros, huh?" Jensen asks. "I guess that makes sense. They can bond over what it's like to have horns on their head."

The dad laughs, but Emma gasps and looks up at him with awe. "Yes, that's exactly right," she tells him. "You're a very wise man."

"Um, thanks," he says, scanning the toy's tag. "You know, I don't want to cause problems here, but I hear this rhinoceros is a bit of a troublemaker. Sure he's right for your unicorn?"

Emma considers it for a few seconds, her head cocked to one side and a serious expression on her face. Then she nods. "It's okay. Stacy will make him a better man. Plus, every group needs a troublemaker."

"Sweetie, I thought I told you not to listen to anything Uncle Chad told you."

She rolls her eyes. "I know, Daddy. But Uncle Chad said that's only because you don't have street cred and you're jealous of him."

Jensen raises an eyebrow.

"I really need to reconsider who I let babysit my kid," the guy tells him. "Just know it was an emergency."

"Hey, man," Jensen says, raising his hands in surrender. "I'm not asking questions. I'm just here to take your money."

"So I guess that means I should pay you then?" Jensen makes an amused sound and nods as the dad reaches into his back pocket to pull his wallet out. "How much do I owe you?"

Jensen tells him and waits for the guy to pay, trying not to let his mind run away with dirty responses to the question. Once he's printed the receipt, he slides it across the counter, not realizing the dad was already reaching for it. Their hands bump for a second, and Jensen pulls away, hoping he's not blushing.

The man stands there, eyes locked with Jensen's for a second too long before he looks back down and frowns. "Shit," he says under his breath. "You don't watch them for a second and they're gone."

Jensen laughs a little, moving away from the register as the guy turns and starts calling out his daughter's name. He moves back in the direction of the stuffed animals, but Jensen spots her only a few feet away from where she'd been standing. The rhino she was so excited about a moment ago is now hanging forgotten from one hand as she stares up, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open.

"Hey, she's over here," Jensen calls out, pointing when the dad turns around, worried expression abating a little.

He rounds the aisle, stopping next to his daughter and putting his hands on his hips. "Emma, what did I tell you about wandering off?"

She doesn't bother to answer, just points up. In the back of Jensen's head, flashing dollar bill shaped neon lights go off. It's not often he gets to make a big sale, so he moves to stand closer to the dollhouses.

"I want it," she says. "Daddy! Daddy, I want it."

The man is tall enough to be almost on level with the dollhouse display Jensen has on the shelves around the ceiling of the store, so he reaches for the price tag dangling down and visibly winces. "Not today, baby. You just got a new toy."

She holds up the rhinoceros. "I don't want him anymore. I want that."

"Mommy bought you a new dollhouse for Christmas," he says. "It would hurt her feelings if you don't play with it."

"But I want that one," she says again, like this is all very simple. Jensen backs away a little, caught between wanting to push for the sale and wanting to tell the kid to drop it.

The dad turns to look at him. "How does a dollhouse cost that much?"

Jensen shrugs. "They're handmade. Kind of what we're known for."

The man stands up on his toes to get a better look, squinting. "No way," he says. "No one has enough time on their hands to give a dollhouse that much attention."

Jensen coughs pointedly. "I make them."

"Oh," the man says, looking sheepish as he puts his weight back on his heels and steps away from the dollhouse. "It's, um. Really nice."

Jensen barks out a laugh. "You think this is bad, you should see the accessories. Hours and hours of my life painting tiny furniture."

"Can I see it closer?" the little girl asks, interrupting the conversation.

"Sure," Jensen says, reaching up.

The dad stops him with a hand on his wrist, shaking his head when Jensen meets his eyes. He leans in and speaks in hushed tones, "Look, I get that you've got a job here, but please don't. We can’t afford it, making her love it any more is just gonna make me the bad guy."

Jensen frowns, letting go of the house and nodding sharply. "Yeah, I'm sorry, man."

The dad shrugs, going down on one knee in front of his daughter. "Sweetheart, how about we buy one of your dolls some new furniture instead of a whole new house?"

Emma pouts, her arms crossing over her chest. "But Daddy, it's so much better than the one Mommy bought me."

Jensen swells up a little at that. Which, okay, embarrassing, but this is how he's somehow ended up spending his life, so it's nice to hear he's at least doing it right every now and again. He can see the guy floundering for an excuse to explain his way out of buying this house, so Jensen decides he'd better play the bad guy instead.

"I'm afraid that one is not for sale," he says. "It's mine and I'm not letting anyone take it."

The dad looks up from his daughter, shocked at first. Jensen sees the moment he catches up to what's going on, and the grateful smile on his face is worth it.

"That's not very nice," Emma says. "We could share it. My teacher said sharing is the best thing in the world."

"That's true," Jensen agrees. "But I'm afraid I just can't bring myself to share this one."

She sighs, giving the dollhouse one last dreamy glance. "I guess I can't blame you," she says, her shoulders slumping. "I wouldn't share it either."

Jensen feels a little guilty—she is really, really damn cute—but her dad is pretty cute, too, and he rises to his feet, giving Jensen another overwhelming smile.

"Thanks," he says. He picks Emma up and holds her on one arm, pushing her hair back behind her ear. She's upgraded her pout now, her bottom lip trembling. Her dad leans in and kisses her on the cheek. "Hey, sweetie, don't cry. We can go get ice cream on the way home."

She sniffs, passing her arm over her nose and giving Jensen a glare as her father carries her out of the shop. "I guess that helps a little," she admits.

"Thanks, come again," he mumbles, more out of habit than because he actually expects this guy to ever bring his kid back into a store that made her cry.

The man turns to look at him one last time, and Jensen could swear his eyes are darker than they were a second ago. "Oh, we will," he promises, and then the door is chiming as it closes behind them.

_______________________________________________________________

Jensen doesn't actually believe him when he says he'll be back, but a few days later the door sings the arrival of a customer, and Jensen looks up to find the guy standing in front of him at the register. He's alone this time, and he smiles when Jensen meets his eyes.

"Hey," he says.

Jensen smirks. "I should let you know ahead of time, we have a no return policy on stuffed rhinoceroses. He's your problem now."

The guy laughs. "Artie is assimilating very well, I'll have you know. Emma tells me he's almost entirely reformed. Though I found him on the counter sitting next to a bottle of wine yesterday, so I have my doubts."

"Well, I guess what matters is that she believes," Jensen replies. After a few beats, he decides to stop ogling and remember to be useful. "Was there something else I can do for you?"

"Jared," the man says, holding a hand out. "My name's Jared."

Jensen shakes it. "Was there something I can do for you, Jared?"

"Yeah, I wanted to say thanks. For the other day, you know? I always have to be the one who dashes hopes, so it was nice to get to bond over how mean someone else was for once."

"Oh, any time you need a villain," Jensen says, pointing a thumb at himself. Jared laughs. "Mom not a good disciplinarian?"

"Her mom is actually much better with that kind of thing than I am," he says. His face doesn't change much, though his jaw gets just a tiny bit tighter, and he taps his left hand on the counter anxiously. Jensen can't help being drawn to the lack of a ring. 

Sore subject, then. "You sure have your hands full with that one," Jensen says, hoping the distraction will help lighten things up.

"Tell me about it," Jared agrees. "Even before the temper tantrums start, she's so damn adorable I get a guilt complex just telling her to go to bed on time."

"That can't be effective parenting," Jensen says, not realizing how judgmental it might come across until after he's already said it.

Mercifully, Jared's grin just widens. "Anyway, I've decided to get her some kind of consolation prize, since the $2,000 dollhouse is out of the question."

"Can some toy make up for breaking her heart?" Jensen asks, letting a little melodrama color his delivery. "How is she holding up?"

"She's been a good sport about it," Jared says, playfully bowing his head. "She's only gotten three fatal diseases in the last week for which, she's assured me, the only cure is a new dollhouse."

"Well, nice to know my toys can save lives." Jensen shifts his weight. "What did you have in mind?"

"Nothing doll related," Jared says. "Trying not to remind her."

"What else does she like? Maybe a new stuffed animal to add to the gang?"

Jared makes a distressed face. "With the drama already in that crowd, I'd hate to complicate things with another person. She likes board games, but we already have most of the big ones."

"How about a puzzle? We've got a pretty badass collection of those."

"I'd imagine so," Jared says, pointing to the sign over the door. "What with being called 'Puzzles Toy Shop' and all."

Jensen blushes. "I like puzzles," he says, shrugging. "I keep them well-stocked."

"You know, I've never really tried that before. Hard to get a kid to sit still long enough for it, I imagine."

"Depends on the kid," Jensen says. "My dad and I used to do them all the time. Fondest childhood memories. That's why I named the store after them when he…" Jared makes a sorry face as comprehension washes over him. Jensen waves him off. "My point is: they're awesome _and_ educational."

Jared narrows his eyes suspiciously. "You don't make and sell $2,000 puzzles, too, do you?" 

Jensen grins. "This sales pitch comes from the heart."

"Well, in that case," Jared says. He inclines his head toward the rest of the store. "Which, uh, which way is this amazing collection?"

"I'll take you, if you want."

Jensen rounds the counter, and Jared snorts. "I'm pretty sure I can navigate the place without getting lost."

Jensen doesn't let his disappointment show. "Just thought you might want a little help picking one."

Jared looks at him closely, then his lips tug up. "You're bored out of your skull over here, aren't you?"

"Like you would not believe," Jensen admits. "Please let me be useful?"

Jared nods and waits until Jensen is next to him to start walking. "So you own this place, huh?"

"Family business," Jensen says cheerfully.

"Forgive me for how dorky this is about to sound, but is this, like, the best job ever or what?"

Jensen laughs. "It's pretty awesome."

"Do you get to play with all the toys?"

"Unfortunately not," Jensen says, heart skipping at the disenchantment on Jared's face. "Well, except for the doll stuff because I make all that. Um. Not that I actually play with it or anything."

Jared laughs loudly, his entire hulking mass of a body shaking with it. Jensen should not be looking quite so hard—this is someone's _dad_ for crying out loud—but Jesus, Jared's not letting fatherhood get in the way of his exercise routine, that's for damn sure.

They reach the puzzle section just a few seconds before the door announces another customer, and Jensen reluctantly leaves Jared to find something he thinks Emma will like on his own. Half an hour later, Jared reappears at the counter and Jensen sets aside the magazine he's reading to ring him up.

"Disney princesses," Jared says, placing two boxes on the counter. "Or little Labrador puppies?"

"Both," Jensen says.

Jared laughs. "You're a scrooge," he says.

Jensen blinks innocently. "What? I'm just trying to make sure you don't worry that you've purchased the wrong one."

"Uh huh, sure," Jared says.

"I'm sure she'll love either one," Jensen says, trying for sincere.

Jared sighs. "Yeah, but now I'm terrified I'll get the wrong one."

"I'm amazing," Jensen says, turning one of the boxes over to scan the barcode.

"Amazing," Jared agrees flatly.

Jensen sticks his tongue out. Jared ignores it, digging into his pocket and pulling out loose change until he's found a few stray bills to pay with. "So this whole time you've been tricking me into throwing money at you and I still haven't gotten your name," Jared says.

"Jensen." Jensen smiles and hands over Jared's change. Their fingers brush, just like last time, and again Jensen looks away, hoping he's not being too obvious. "My name's Jensen."

"Jensen," Jared says slowly. "I like it," he decides after a few seconds. He picks up his bag, gives Jensen one last smile, and leaves.

_______________________________________________________________

Jared comes in every few days after that. He explains that it's a system he and Emma worked out: they go to the toy store every few days and if she's good all week, she gets to pick something small every Friday. It seems to be working; Emma is a perfect lady, at least until something she wants catches her notice.

"Why do you only have three kinds of chess sets?"

Jensen doesn't turn to see who it is, just keeps fiddling with the arrangement of action figures behind the counter. "Why don't you go to a Toys 'R' Us and leave me the hell alone?"

"I hate to pontificate, but you can't say that in a toy store, mister," Emma says. "There are children about."

Jensen hears Jared chuckle and set her on the floor, followed by the sound of her running off to the doll aisle where she tends to spend most of her time when Jared brings her to Puzzles.

"Did she just say 'pontificate'?" Jensen asks, turning his confused expression from Emma's retreating figure to Jared.

"Word of the day," Jared explains. "Six days in a row and she gets to stay up half an hour later watching TV. This is day two."

"Do you conduct your parenting entirely by making deals?

"It makes my job easier," Jared admits with a shrug. "And, plus, how cute is it when she uses big words like that? It's like an adult in a teeny tiny little body."

"You're weird," Jensen tells him.

Jared grins like he's never gotten a better compliment, then leans on the counter. "I'm serious about the chess, you know. As a paying customer, I demand more chess sets. So now you have to supply. That's how it works."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, indeed. I took some business classes." Jared pauses with a thoughtful look on his face. "I think. Maybe. I don't know, school is all a blur to me."

Jensen laughs. "Well, I took some business classes once upon a time, too, pal. You know what I learned?"

"What'd you learn?" Jared asks, putting an elbow on the counter and resting his chin on it, pretending to be deeply interested.

"I learned that it's important to know your customer," he says. Jared nods like this is exactly what he was trying to say, and Jensen can't help smirking. "You may be the one holding the wallet, but that kid," Jensen points down the next aisle where Emma is carefully examining each shelf, "rules with an iron fist. As long as I'm making her happy, I'm getting your money."

"Well, that's it," Jared says in a huff. "I'm taking my business elsewhere."

Jensen calls his bluff. "Toys 'R' Us. Right down the street. I can draw you a map if that'll help."

Jared laughs. "What, and be like all the cool kids? I don't think so."

Jensen kind of has to wonder why Jared does come here so often. The first time was a fluke, sure, the kid saw a toy store and wanted to come in. But Jensen's not charging bargain prices—he can't really, not with the quality of the toys he sells—and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to tell that Jared's not exactly the kind of person who can afford to ignore good prices for convenience or fancy trimmings. Not that Jensen's complaining or anything. It's just weird, is all.

"No really," Jensen insists. "Not that I don't appreciate it, but why the sudden brand loyalty?"

Jared bites his bottom lip and looks around to make sure Emma's distracted. "Look, I don't get to have a lot of adult fun, Jensen. I hardly ever see anyone over the age of eight except at PTA meetings, and I think the last time I went on a date was before I got married." Jared pauses, like he's considering something, and finally shrugs. "You're stupidly attractive and not entirely disagreeable _all_ the time, so...it's kind of refreshing to have found a place where she can amuse herself and I can amuse myself at the same time."

"Well, that was straightforward."

Jared keeps his face trained on a smile, but Jensen sees him drawing back a little. "If I made you uncomfortable, we can—"

Jensen raises an eyebrow, pointing to the framed article hung just above his head. "Jared, that's the piece _The New Yorker_ did on my dollhouses. Which I build. Because I am a guy who owns a toy store and specializes in doll accessories and likes finding new and exciting ways to decorate them. If I'm not gay, I'm pretty sure gay doesn't exist."

Jared lets out a relieved breath, somewhere between a snort and a laugh. "Now you're just stereotyping," he says, looking up at Jensen with hair in his eyes.

"Honey, some stereotypes exist for a reason," Jensen says, faking a little flamboyancy for effect. "I'm pretty sure I'm one of them."

Jared's face lights up. "That's good to know."

"That's good to know?" Jensen echoes. "That's your response?"

"What should my response be?"

"You should let me take you out to dinner," Jensen says. "Saturday night, for example."

"She is with her mom this Saturday," Jared answers, clearly distracted as he mulls it over. He takes way too long, and for a moment Jensen thinks he's not going to say yes. Then he turns his attention back to Jensen. "Yeah. That sounds…I'd like that."

"You sound like you're agreeing to go to the dentist, man."

Jared laughs, ducking his head a little, but doesn’t say anything else on the matter.

_______________________________________________________________

"So," Jensen says, rounding a corner. Dinner was at an Italian joint a few blocks from Jared's place, and it went so well that Jared asked Jensen to walk him home, even though Jensen parked his car back by the restaurant. Jensen feels a little like he's in high school again, but he said yes anyway because he doesn't really want the night to end and, well, he's also hoping he's about to get lucky. What, at least he's honest. "You've been coming to my store for how many weeks now?"

"Six. And a half if you count the first time."

"Right," Jensen says. "And we've gone through this whole date and you still haven't told me what you do."

"Hah," Jared says, bringing his big hand up to scratch the back of his neck. "I guess I'm an unemployed trophy husband." Jensen stares blankly, so Jared continues, "That's what you call it, right? When you're a stay-at-home dad and your wife leaves you?"

Jensen chuckles, not sure if that's the right response, but Jared gives him a good, closed-lip smile, and they keep walking. "Still interested, now that you know I'm a loser?"

"You're raising a kid," Jensen points out. "That's more than I do."

Jared rolls his eyes and huffs, so Jensen stops, turning his body toward Jared's and taking his hand. "What? I'm serious."

"Yeah, but—"

Jensen leans in and kisses him, and Jared returns it for a few seconds before Jensen draws back, holding his face close enough to Jared's that he can keep his voice at a suggestive whisper. "Besides, you'd have to try pretty hard to lose my interest right now."

The hand Jared wraps around his neck is so big it's dizzying, giving Jensen all kinds of dirty thoughts, and before he knows it, Jared's tugging him in and kissing him hard. He tastes a little like meat sauce and the wine they've both been drinking, and Jensen licks in deeper to savor the flavors and the little noises Jared makes.

When they finally break the kiss, Jared keeps a hold on his hand, tugs him forward in the direction of his apartment. "Look I don't want to be too forward," he starts, and Jensen nearly laughs at the suggestion that he could be, "but do you wanna come up? For some wine?"

Jensen accepts, and within five minutes, he's sitting on Jared's big brown couch, looking around a cluttered but welcoming living room while Jared rummages in the kitchen. The room is packed with toys, some Jensen recognizes from his shop and some that must have come from somewhere else. The walls are covered in scribbles: a mix of construction paper projects Emma probably brought home from school and crayon figures about her height drawn directly onto the tan walls of the apartment. The coffee table is so covered in art supplies that Jensen starts moving things to make room for the wine glasses Jared's about to bring in.

"Obviously didn't straighten up," Jared is saying as he re-enters the living room. "Wish I had now. Sorry about the mess."

Jensen picks up what looks like a few folded scraps of paper, until he turns one over and is instead greeted by a moose in a party hat, waving up at him with one hand and holding a balloon that says "I moose wish you a happy birthday!" in the other. He laughs to himself as he sorts through about five cards, each with hand-drawn animals and related puns, and holds one up for Jared to see as he takes the empty spot on the couch. "What are these?"

"Oh god, how embarrassing," Jared says, setting a glass of dark red wine down in front of Jensen and taking a sip from his own. "Please just pretend you never saw them."

"No, come on!" Jensen insists. He can feel himself smiling so hard it hurts. "Did you make them?"

"Just something I do to stay busy when Emma and I are having art hour, you know? God they're terrible, I know that. I cannot believe of all the things you could have picked up—"

Jensen shuts him up with a kiss. "I think they're awesome."

"I have a whole box of them around here somewhere." Jared shakes his head. "They're fun, what can I say? My friends like them, at least."

"You ever thought about selling them?"

Jared takes the cards out of Jensen's hand and puts them on the coffee table. "In my crazier moments. But they're cheesy, I know that. It's just a hobby, I guess."

"Cheesy? Okay, yes, no doubt. But they're really charming." Jared tries to blow the compliment off, but Jensen insists, "Seriously, Jared, the people that shop at my store would go crazy for cute handmade cards like this. Half of my customers are buying last minute birthday presents anyway, I could probably make good business out of these."

Jared laughs. "You're really serious?"

"Yeah, absolutely," Jensen replies. "I'll make sure you get all the profits back."

"Oh, please. You can have the stupid cards, I've got more than I can give away. Piles just lying around here not doing me any good. Not that I actually think you'll be able to sell any, but you knock yourself out trying." Jared takes another sip of his wine and then another, as if he's trying to work up to something. Then he bites his bottom lip and looks pointedly at Jensen's. "Anyway, this is so not what we should be talking about."

Jensen can't really resist an invitation like that. "What should we be talking about, then?"

Jared leans in, closing the distance between them. "Shouldn't be talking at all," he replies, and before Jensen's ready for it, he's lying back on the couch, Jared on top of him, body positioned between his legs, and they're making out desperately.

After some long minutes of kissing and grinding together, Jared sits back on the couch, looking Jensen up and down with dark eyes. He grins and suddenly he's kneeling on the floor, moving Jensen so that he's sitting with his legs spread wide, and Jared's big hands move up and down his thighs.

"Listen, Jensen, I, uh," he licks his lips, "I haven't done this in a really long time, but," he looks up, his eyes meeting Jensen's and searching him out, "I'd really love to suck your cock."

"Jesus," Jensen replies, startled by how fast this is moving.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," Jared says, and he tries to pull away. "I knew I should hold back, I swear I'm not usually—"

"That was _not_ a no," Jensen replies, reaching down to catch Jared with one hand buried in his hair, and he pushes Jared forward by the back of his head. "Do it."

Jared grins up with this giddy excitement…Jensen doesn't think he's that drunk, and he wonders if maybe he should have started dating sex-starved single dads years ago. He palms at Jensen's dick through his khakis for a few seconds, big warm hands making Jensen crazy and half-hard already, so he shifts his hips, trying to fit comfortably inside his pants.

He doesn't have to wait long for Jared to take the hint. He undoes Jensen's belt and works his cock out of his pants, hand stroking so good over Jensen's shaft as Jared gets him ready.

It's then, when Jensen is just about fully hard and Jared is pressing in, his mouth so close to the head of Jensen's dick that he can _feel_ Jared's breath ghosting over him when he exhales, that the phone rings.

Immediately, Jared freezes, and Jensen wants to shout for him to ignore it, to finish what he started, but after about half a minute of Jared obviously torn as he tries to decide what to do here, the answering machine jumps in and makes the decision for him.

"Pick up the damn phone, Jared," a woman's voice says through the tinny receiver, and Jensen watches Jared slump in disappointment. He lets his head drop, resting against Jensen's thigh as they both listen in dismay to a few more seconds of the message. "Emma's throwing a fit. She was supposed to be in bed two hours ago, she hasn't stopped crying. She says she had a nightmare and she wants you to come pick her up. Look I have work to do, I don't have—"

By now, Jared's gotten up and answered the phone, sending Jensen an apologetic glance as he answers. "Hello?"

Jensen sighs, starting to tuck himself away. It's pretty clear that they're done here.

"I can’t do that," Jared says. "I'm in the middle of—no, Gen, it's your night. Two nights a week, that's all I'm asking for."

Jensen hears something, muffled through the other line that sounds a lot like, "Well, what am I supposed to do about it?"

"Figure it out!" Jared replies. "Read her a story, she likes—"

Whatever she responds with, it makes the fight all drain out of Jared. He sighs, the hand not holding the phone combing through his hair anxiously. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. I'll be there in twenty."

He hangs up and looks over at Jensen. "I am so sorry."

"Hey, comes with the territory, right?" Jensen shrugs, trying not to seem or sound as frustrated as he is, but it's obvious he doesn't pull it off, not completely, not from the face Jared gives him. 

"It's just, my ex-wife. She's, uh. She's not great with kids. I mean, she's not a bad mom or anything. Usually they get along fine, but as soon as Emma gets anxious she gets anxious and they feed off each other and make it worse and I just—"

Jensen stands up and crosses the room, putting a hand on Jared's wrist. "Jared, seriously. It's fine. You don't have to explain. I get it."

"It's not fine," Jared says, looking at Jensen for a few seconds, and it seems like he's thinking about kissing Jensen again, but then he turns his head sharply to stare at the carpet instead. "It's anything but fine right now, and I wish I could tell her to suck it up, but I can't punish Emma like that. I have to go."

"I'll drive you."

"What?" Jared shakes his head. "No, come on. I think I've made your night miserable enough."

"I had a nice time," Jensen says, and when Jared tries to protest, Jensen plays dirty. "I've had a lot less to drink than you have. I'm good to drive, and you might be fine if it was just us, but do you really wanna take a chance with your daughter in the car?"

Jared thinks over that for all of a few seconds before he shakes his head again. "I'll call a cab. I couldn't possibly—"

"I'm offering," says Jensen.

"We won't be able to…do anything when we get back. I mean, I'll have to put her to bed and that'll be a whole—"

"I'm not that sleazy, Jared," Jensen cuts in. "I can give you a ride without expecting—"

"That's not what I meant. God, fuck, I just keep screwing up." He runs both his hands through his hair, and Jensen thinks it's totally unfair that the mix of concerned responsibility in his expression and the silly little boy hair sticking out in every direction only makes him _more_ attractive. "I feel terrible."

"C'mon," Jensen says, completely ignoring Jared's protests. "My car's still at the restaurant, so we better get walking."

Jared finally closes his mouth and gives a petulant nod, allowing Jensen to lead him out. The walk is faster this time, no stopping to kiss, no hand-holding stroll. Jared gives him directions once they're both in the car, and Jensen channels his frustration into driving, which has always been a way he lets off steam.

"How did you guys end up with a kid if she doesn't like them?" Jensen asks, not realizing until it's out that he sounds nasty, like he's every bit as annoyed at Jared's ex as he maybe kind of is.

"I think it was mostly my fault," Jared admits. He's sitting with his head pushed back against the headrest, throat exposed in a way Jensen's definitely going to go home and obsess over, and his eyes are closed. Jensen thinks he's probably trying to sober up before they get to where they're going.

"We were really great together when we were young and everything was easy. And then I wanted a kid and Gen wanted to work and I think between me insisting and our parents always asking she felt like she had to a little bit. I'm sure she really convinced herself she wanted a baby by the time we finally got pregnant, I know I'd convinced myself it was what we both wanted. But at the end of the day it wasn't."

"That why you guys…?" Jensen lets the question linger, not wanting to finish it. He's pretty sure he doesn't have the right to ask any of this on a first date, but, well. He feels pretty smack in the middle of it right about now.

"Yeah, a little." Jared shrugs. "She's a bit of a workaholic. Brilliant at what she does—she's a lawyer, so it was always kind of hot, how intimidatingly good she is at her job. But I needed more attention than she could give—Emma too, obviously—and it all just got sour."

"Ah," Jensen says, like he gets it when really all he gets is that Jared maybe shouldn't have been married in the first place.

As if he's reading Jensen's mind, Jared lifts his head from where it's been resting, says, "We're very different people. Probably never made much sense together. But, hey, when you're 23 and in love…"

Jensen lets out an amused huff under his breath. He can definitely recall some questionable calls he made at that age because it was for the truest of true loves—the kind that lasts a whole six months if you're lucky, and then you wake up one day and realize the guy you took for prince charming is a mouth breather with mommy issues. "I hear ya."

Jared points left, to a huge, intimidating apartment complex. "This is it."

Jensen whistles. "She's not doing too bad for herself, huh?"

It's a sharp contrast from the place Jared's living—not that his apartment isn't nice in its hominess, but it's a cardboard box compared to the building they're pulling into now. Jensen almost asks, but before he can, Jared's getting out of the car.

"Yeah, I know," Jared says, a little like Jensen hit a nerve. "Emma and I moved out as soon as the divorce was finalized. I never really felt at home here."

"What's not to feel at home about?" Jensen jokes, even as Jared's leading him through the overwrought lobby, giving an awkward wave to the concierge. "Plastic flower arrangements the size of Wisconsin not your scene?"

Jared snorts as he holds some shiny leaves back before they get a chance to smack Jensen in the face, and then they're stepping into a silver elevator, mirrors on all sides.

"She's on the 8th floor," Jared says, just to say something, as he presses the button. Jensen nods, and then silence settles between them, thick and awkward. He's trying not to think about how weird this all is when the elevator dings and Jared gets out, leading him down a hall.

When he finally stops in front of door 819 and knocks, it opens so fast Jensen has to wonder if someone's been waiting on the other side. A very pretty but frazzled brunette is standing at the threshold, and Jensen can hear Emma screaming in the background.

"Thank god you're here," she says. "She hasn't stopped crying in—"

She goes quiet as soon as her eyes land on Jensen, her face coloring a little. "Shit, I didn't realize you were—"

"Save it, Gen," Jared replies, pushing past her and disappearing into the apartment. Which leaves Jensen alone with the ex.

"Uh," she says, at least having the decency to look sorry. "Do you want to come in?"

"Think I better not," Jensen says.

Gen nods. They stand in painful silence for a few seconds before she gives him a lopsided smile. "Jared's a great guy! Not that—you probably already knew that. But, uh, I mean, you should date him! Again. For a whole date. That I will not ruin. You're probably not looking for a recommendation from me. I should shut up. I'll shut up."

Jensen kind of snorts, but he's smiling at her when Jared reappears, Emma on one arm, resting her head on his shoulder, half-asleep already, and a huge bag slung over his other shoulder.

"Jesus, how do you _do_ that?" Gen asks.

"Say goodnight to Mommy, Emma," Jared says, ignoring his ex entirely.

Emma blinks her eyes open and smiles at her mom. "Night, Mommy. I love you."

Gen steps forward and pushes the brown curls spilling over Jared's shoulder away before pressing a kiss to Emma's forehead. "Love you too, baby. Mommy's gonna miss you. Be good for Daddy, okay?"

Emma nods and then she rests her head on Jared's shoulder again, apparently about to go to sleep when she sees Jensen. "Aren't you the man from the toy store?"

Jensen nods, feeling his cheeks burn. 

"Do I get a present?"

He shakes his head as Jared starts walking.

"Jensen is a friend, Emma," Jared explains. "He didn't bring you a toy, he came to say hello."

"Okay," she says, sounding only a little disappointed. "I like friends more than toys, anyway." She yawns before adding, "Sometimes."

He hears one last laugh from Gen and then the sound of the door clicking shut.

By the time they get to the car and Jared straps Emma into the backseat, she's out cold, so they stay quiet for the ride back to Jared's place. Jensen sticks around to help carry her stuff upstairs and watches Jared tuck his daughter into bed from the door of her room.

He looks exhausted by the time he finally turns to Jensen and gestures for Jensen to go ahead into the living room. Jensen waits in the hallway for Jared to shut the door to Emma's room before he says, "I guess I should go."

"Yeah," Jared agrees, fingers still on the door handle, aiming his words down at his feet. "Listen, Jensen, I'm so sorry that—"

"I told you, man, I get it." Jensen angles Jared's chin up so their eyes meet, and he makes himself smile. "I'll let you buy me dinner next time to make up for it?"

Jared's eyes are still evasive. "Right. Next time."

He wasn't born yesterday; Jensen knows a rejection when he hears one. "Or not?"

"I wasn't going to apologize that this happened. I was going to apologize for agreeing to go out with you in the first place. I shouldn't have said yes when you asked last week," he says, finally looking up. "It was selfish of me."

Jensen shakes his head, rounding the couch before sitting down and looking up at Jared behind him. "You didn't know."

"I knew something like this would happen. Something like this always happens." Jared sighs as he takes the empty space next to Jensen and he sends a sorry look to the wineglasses still sitting on the coffee table. "I just wanted you so much. But I shouldn't have dragged you in."

"Okay, but this doesn't mean that—"

Jared licks his lips, and it's fucking cruel that his mouth looks so pink and shiny and biteable when Jensen knows Jared is trying to tell him that's never going to happen again. "You're a great guy, Jensen."

"Oh, lovely," Jensen says with a forced laugh. "I've heard that one before."

"No, seriously. You're a great guy. I'd be lucky to have you, anyone would. Hell, I wish I'd met you ten years ago—or, no, maybe like six years from now when Emma's old enough to be on her own a little. But for now, she needs me pretty much all the time and she's my priority. And you—you deserve better than to be with someone who can never put you first. It's not fair to you."

"Jared, I would never expect you to put me before your daughter."

"I know that," Jared says. "But really think about it. All our dates are gonna end like this. Every time we go anywhere, she's going to be there. I'm not about to ask you to commit to being her dad, but I can’t just bring people into her life and then have them drop out when we break up. You don't want to be a part of something like that overnight. Maybe Gen interrupting when she did was a good thing in the long run."

Jensen nods—grudgingly, because he was the one two seconds from a blowjob when the phone rang—but he nods. As much as he likes Jared and as charming as Emma is, he isn't ready to be part of someone's family. He hadn't really been thinking of where their relationship would go when he started this date. He's pretty sure he and Jared had both been thinking with their dicks and nothing else. But Jared's got a responsibility to his daughter, and Jensen's not ready to make the sacrifices that being with him would require.

He stands. "I should go."

Jared nods. "I'll clean up, you just—"

"Jared," Jensen interrupts. "We can still be friends, right? I mean, you guys are welcome to come by the store whenever you want."

The smile Jared gives him is a mix of surprised and relieved, and Jensen sees his pretty, pretty dimples and thinks, probably, he's just shot himself in the foot. "I'd love to be friends."

Jensen gives Jared a wicked smile. "Then, as your friend, I'm taking a consolation prize."

Jared's eyebrows knit together in confusion until he sees Jensen putting the lid on a paper box full of Jared's dopey hand-drawn cards, and then he starts laughing so hard he has to cover his mouth so he doesn't wake Emma.

"Good riddance to you both," Jared says when he waves Jensen and his box of cards out the door.

_______________________________________________________________

West Collins is attacking his calves with a bright blue plastic shovel. The sandbox had been too full of other kids to play in, and apparently this was the next best use for the tool.

"Can you please tell your spawn to stop beating me with the toy _I bought him_?" Jensen says, trying to wave West away, but the kid is too fast for him. Maybe he's getting old.

"West, why are you hurting Uncle Jensen?" Misha asks.

"I'm tenderizing him!" West announces, beginning the routine on Jensen's left leg. Apparently the right has been satisfactorily softened by now.

"He's very into cooking lately," Misha explains, giving Jensen an apologetic look. "If I asked him to stop, it would be limiting his creative expression."

"I see," Jensen says. He waits until West looks truly distracted, then sweeps down and grabs the little terror, propping him on his shoulders. "You want ice cream?"

West throws his shovel down and yells enthusiastically.

"No ice cream if you don't stop tenderizing Uncle Jensen."

"Deal," West says. "Can I be a pilot instead?"

Jensen laughs and before too long, West is making airplane noises, steering Jensen with little tugs left and right on his ears. It's a sign of just how much he's had to put up with over the last four years that by now he's pretty much able to ignore the melee going on over his shoulders entirely.

"And then he said we could still be friends," Jensen says, continuing the conversation he and Misha had been having five minutes ago as if it was never interrupted by shovels or flying toddlers. "So that's where that stands."

"What a jerk," Misha says, ever the supportive friend.

Jensen sighs. "He isn't a jerk, though. He's awesome. That's kind of why it sucks so much, you know? I had a great time up until everything blew up."

"Well, why don’t you guys just go out again?" Misha points at his son. "It's not like you aren't great with kids. I don't see why trying to make it work isn't an option."

"Because it's one thing to babysit or hang out with my best friend's kid and something completely different to date someone who can never give me any of his time."

"Right, I guess," Misha says. "But I still say—"

"I'm tired of being a pilot now," West announces. Jensen places West on the grass and he takes one of his dad's hands and one of Jensen's. "When I count to three, pick me up and swing me."

"Alright, buddy," Jensen says. He turns to look at Misha. "This kid is exhausting."

"I never noticed," Misha replies, in that way he has—after all the years they've been friends, Jensen still can't tell if it's incredibly earnest or incredibly sarcastic.

"One, two, three," West counts, and then he's swinging a few steps forward, letting out a happy, "whee!"

"Jensen?"

Jensen stops instantly and looks up from West to see Jared standing a few feet away, holding Emma by one hand and staring.

"Jared," he replies.

"Well, you sure have a type," Jared says, more than a little bitchy, looking from Misha to West and back to Jensen.

Jensen lets out a nervous laugh when he realizes what Jared thinks is going on. "What? No—God, no. This is my friend from college, Misha. We're not—I mean—Jesus, no."

"Thanks, Jensen," Misha grumbles. "My wife happens to think I'm quite a catch. Or at least that's what she tells me."

"Sorry," Jared replies, his cheeks coloring. "I shouldn't have said that. I mean, even if you were—"

"You said your name was Jared?" Misha says, interrupting what's quickly turning into a very awkward moment for everyone involved. "Then this little lady must be Emma."

"I most certainly am," Emma says with a curtsy.

"She's pretty," West says.

Misha laughs, picking his son up. "And this charmer here is Jensen's godson, West Collins, evil overlord of Australia and the Netherlands. Or at least that's what he was yesterday."

"Today I'm a chef pilot," West reminds his dad. "And maybe a wizard."

"Right, yes, of course. How could I forget?" Misha turns his attention back to Jared and pastes on a big smile. "Jensen's great with kids and very responsible. Isn't Uncle Jensen great, West?"

"The best," West agrees. "Can I have my ice cream now?"

Misha stage whispers, "You can have two Freezey Pops after you tell the nice man about how much you love Uncle Jensen."

"Uncle Jensen is my favorite uncle," West says obediently. "Much less smelly than Uncle Steve."

"Overselling it!" Jensen shoves Misha in the side and ruffles West's hair.

Jared laughs, ducking his head so all Jensen can see are the bangs in his eyes and his dimpled grin. "Not that I would doubt it for a second."

"I was just about to swing by that there ice cream truck for some low-fat refreshments," Misha says, pointing at the truck so that Jared can see that it's near enough to keep an eye on. "Perhaps Emma would like to join us?"

Jared glances in Jensen's direction and Jensen gives him a small smile and a subtle nod, understanding that Jared's trying to make sure this guy is safe to trust with his kid, even if only for a few minutes.

"How about it, Emma?" Jared gets down on one knee in front of his daughter. "You want some ice cream?"

"Do I want ice cream?" Emma replies, shaking her head sadly. She grabs her doll out of her dad's hands and marches toward Misha and West. "The things he asks me sometimes."

"Can I play with your doll?" West asks as Emma joins him and they begin to walk off toward the truck.

"Her name is Rosie," Emma explains, handing Rosie to West. "My mommy got her for me for Christmas. She pees when I give her her bottle."

West laughs like that's the best thing he's ever heard, and Misha sends Jensen and Jared a wry look before following the kids.

Once they're suitably alone, Jensen turns to Jared. "So..."

"So," Jared replies. He shakes some hair out of his face and gives Jensen a weak smile. "Already telling all your friends what a disaster our date was?"

Jensen laughs. "Hardly put it in those words. But we grown-ups do talk."

"How have you been?" Jared asks.

Jensen tries to look playful, but he's willing to bet he's not very convincing. "Honestly? Missed my favorite customers on Friday."

Jared looks down at his hands. "I figured you wouldn't want to see me after—"

"I thought we agreed to be friends?"

With a laugh, Jared finally looks up and meets Jensen's eyes. "I kind of thought you were just saying that to be polite."

"I wasn't." Jensen rubs his hands together and then shoves them in his pockets. "It wasn't that bad a date, Jared."

"You met my ex-wife and went home with blue balls," Jared replies, raising an eyebrow.

Jensen can't help laughing at that. "She gave you a great recommendation, though! Five out of five stars."

"Oh god, she would." Jared looks back out at the ice cream truck. "I'm not being entirely honest. I needed some time to, uh, get over myself, I guess. That was embarrassing and…you…you took it well. I kind of wish you'd been pissed. Would have been easier to get over if you had."

"Were you ever planning to show your face in my store again?"

Jared shrugs. "I honestly don't know. I let myself think I could have something just for me. Haven't done that in years. And then I blew it. I needed some time to mope."

"You finished moping yet?" Jensen asks. He follows Jared's sightline and sees Misha approaching, West and Emma a few steps ahead, each holding an ice cream in one hand and one of Rosie's little plastic arms in the other.

Jared nods.

"Good," Jensen says, nodding his head at the kids. "Because I have a feeling we're being set up on a playdate whether we want it or not."

Laughing, Jared turns to Jensen. "I hope she doesn't think younger children work the same as puppies and kittens. Listen, if she tries to adopt him and it looks like I'm about to give in to the begging, please intervene."

"Don't worry," Jensen tells him. "For whatever reason, I'm pretty sure Misha enjoys having that little rascal around. Plus, his wife calls all the shots. He won't let someone carry their kid off without her permission."

"What a relief," Jared jokes, checking Jensen's shoulder with his own.

They spend four hours at the park, mostly playing with the kids, and when Jared and Emma go their separate ways in the parking lot, Jared casually says he'll see Jensen next week. Jensen can't help smiling at that, waving as he watches Jared get into his car.

"Oh yeah," Misha says, stopping next to Jensen and looking from Jared's car to Jensen. "You're just interested in his friendship."

"What?" Jensen says, turning to look at his friend.

Misha shakes his head. "The dopey grin. The nervous giggling. The thing you do where you pull away really fast every time you guys bump into each other."

"He was it!" Jensen insists. "I was trying not to get caught."

"I don't know, Uncle Jensen. You let him catch you lots of times."

Jensen scowls at a four year old, which is probably his version of rock bottom. "Where do your toys come from, West?"

"I take it back," West says.

"You are smitten, my friend. You are smitten, and this can only end one way."

"Disaster?" Jensen asks. Then he shakes his head. "I am not smitten! It was one date."

"Marriage and babies," Misha says. "A life doomed by marital bliss. It's not all bad, mind you. Just look at me!"

Thankfully, West interrupts his father's teasing. "Emma was pretty. Can I marry her?"

"Maybe when you're older," Misha says. "If you do your chores when you're old enough to have any. Right now we have Uncle Jensen's wedding to worry about first."

"Stop it, okay?" Jensen feels a little like he's pouting, but oh well. "I'm not pretending I don't have a big stupid crush on the guy. He's the one that called things off, so just…let it go, alright?"

"Oh please," West says, tugging Jensen's jeans until Jensen bends down to pick him up. "He was even more obvious than you were, Uncle Jensen."

Jensen sighs as Misha begins to sing the Wedding March and West joins in cheerfully.

_______________________________________________________________

"I see you on Monday. I see you on Wednesday. Now you're here again on Thursday." Jensen leans over the counter and narrows his eyes. "You trying to ruin my week, Padalecki?"

"I don't plan to stay long this time, I promise," Jared answers, and then he bends down to put Emma on the floor. "Go play, sweetie."

Emma waves hello to Jensen, then skips off toward the stuffed animals at the back of the store. He grins watching her go and it's not until he turns back to Jared that the smile slips off his face.

He hadn't looked closely when they'd first come into the store, but now he sees that Jared's eyes are just short of wild, his hair even messier than usual, and his mouth is set in a tight line—not quite a frown, but not the big, bright smile Jensen's gotten so used to in the three weeks since they bumped into each other at the park and got their shit worked out.

"Whoa, hey, Jared. Are you alright?"

"I look that good, do I?" he says, obviously trying to lighten the moment, but then he shakes his head and looks down at his hands. "Listen, Jensen. I have a favor to ask. It's okay if you say no, but—I'm kinda desperate."

Jensen frowns. "Yeah, man. What's up?"

"Would you mind watching Emma for a bit? I can't find anyone that I'd trust her with because everyone's at work and I know…I know this is your job and not a daycare and I wouldn't be asking but—" Jared's voice breaks, and Jensen circles around the counter to put a hand on his shoulder. "I would really appreciate it if you could."

"Dude, yes, of course." Jensen walks Jared a few feet over, to the area usually reserved for story time. It's got one adult-sized chair, which Jensen pushes Jared into, a multi-colored foam puzzle mat, and a little plastic table where the kids do arts-and-crafts one Saturday every month. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Honestly? I don't know. My mom's in the hospital. She fainted at the supermarket this morning and still hasn't woken up. Dad says they don't know why and probably won't until she wakes up, so I don't know how bad it is and I don't want Emma to see her grandma before I know what to—to prepare her for."

Jared shakes his head as if that'll make everything go away, lifting the lilac Dora the Explorer bag in his hand and making a strained subject change. "She's got coloring books and stuff and she's really good about entertaining herself, so I was thinking she could just sit over here at the craft table and you could keep an eye on her, give her the snacks I packed around noon. I'm so sorry to ask this, I just don't know what else to—"

"Jared," Jensen says, breaking in before Jared can work himself up even more. "Please, do not worry about this. Go see your mom. Don't worry about Emma, I'll take care of her."

Jared nods and reaches up, wrapping his fingers around Jensen's wrists and lowering them from his shoulders. He gives Jensen a weak smile and squeezes just a little before letting go. "I can't thank you enough, Jen. Seriously. I really appreciate it."

"Get outta here, man."

Jared stands up and calls for Emma. She reappears a few seconds later, her arms full of stuffed horses. "Mommy says I'm going to ride real ponies when I'm older, so I need these for practice."

"How about this: you sit here and work on drawing something pretty to give to grandma tonight, and if Jensen says you've been a good girl when I get back, you can have _one_ pony."

"You drive a hard bargain," Emma tells Jared. She arranges the horses on the craft table next to the stack of coloring books and crayons Jared's laid out and then turns back to her father, holding out a tiny hand. "Let's shake on it."

Jared smiles as he shakes her hand, gives her a long hug and a kiss on the forehead, and then gets up to go. He gives Jensen a brief pat on the way out, and Jensen watches as Emma flips through her coloring books, trying to decide what to work on.

She's quiet for longer than Jensen expects, but after two hours she starts to get restless. It's a quiet day, and Jensen figures he doesn't need to stay behind the counter when he's not making a sale, so he walks over to the craft table and bends down to see what she's working on.

He has to swallow a laugh as soon as he gets a glimpse of the Justice League, their outfits all done up in tints of pink and purple. Except for the Green Arrow, whose outfit is still green, because apparently Emma's a purist that way.

"Batman's changed his image some since I last paid attention," he says, pointing to the picture. "I like his hat, though."

"My Barbie has one just like it," Emma explains.

"I see," Jensen says. "Is this for your grandma?"

"No, silly, this one's for you." She smiles at Jensen for only a second before excitedly turning a few pages over and pointing. "This one's for Grandma."

Again, Jensen just barely manages not to crack up. The picture Emma selected for her grandmother was initially a depiction of the Joker about to be apprehended by the police for whatever trouble he's been up to. At least, that was the plot before Emma doodled in a giant snail eating him.

"That's, uh, really…nice, Emma."

Emma nods. "It's Batman's new justice snail. Robin gave it to him for his birthday."

"That's pretty much the most awesome present ever," Jensen says.

"Yup!" Emma puts down the crayon in her hand. "I'm tired of coloring now."

"You want a snack break?"

She nods, so Jensen sets out the juice, sandwich, and two chocolate chip cookies Jared packed for her, leaving her to eat while he rings up a woman with triplet boys, all arguing over which of the water guns they'd selected was best.

By the time he gets back, she's pretty much done eating.

"I saved you a cookie," she says. She pushes half a cookie toward Jensen and gives him a sheepish little smile. "But then you took too long."

"I understand completely," he says, taking his half. "Thank you for sharing."

"Oh, no problem," she says. "Just remember me when you're looking for friends to share your dollhouse with."

Jensen shakes his head. The little schemer. "You wanna play a game I like?"

Emma pushes her coloring books across the table and nods.

About forty-five minutes later, Jared arrives to find Jensen still bent over Emma's shoulder, so deeply engrossed in the book in front of them that he doesn't even realize Jared is there.

He lifts his head when he hears Jared's greeting and is relieved to see that Jared seems to be in a much better place than when he left.

"He was right in the middle of the page on this one!" Emma declares, looking up at her father like this is all his fault. "That's stupid!"

"Wow," Jared says, tilting his head so that his view of the book is right side up. "Is _Where's Waldo?_ still a thing?"

"It is in this toy store," Jensen replies with deep conviction in his tone. " _Where's Waldo?_ is the best thing ever. Right, Emma?"

"Yeah!" she says, turning back to her search for Wenda and Odlaw.

Jensen gives her a pat on the back and walks over to Jared, putting enough space between them and Emma so that she won't overhear and speaking in a low voice. "How's your mom?"

"She's okay, I think," Jared says, giving him a relieved smile. "She was awake by the time I got there. Turns out she didn't faint, she had a seizure, which sounds worse, but they figured out the cause and the doctors say that once they rework her medications it shouldn't happen again or have long-lasting effects, so…"

He licks his lips and looks over at his daughter. "Jensen, I can't thank you enough for this."

"It was seriously not a problem," Jensen says. He turns and points to the coloring book page now hung on the wall behind the counter. "I got some pretty epic art out of it."

Jared snorts when he sees the picture. "Batman just isn't the force of intimidation he used to be, huh?"

"That's what I said!" Jensen replies, grinning.

Jared turns back to the craft table and his daughter, her tongue poking out of her mouth as she searches, apparently working on a harder page than the one they'd been on when Jared arrived. "Emma, baby, let's pack up your things and go see Grandma."

"But Daddy," she says. "I have to find Waldo's doggie."

"Watch this," Jared tells Jensen. "Hey, Emma, what's the word of the day?"

"Intricate," she answers, poking at the page in front of her. "Used in a sentence: the drawings in this book are very intricate."

"You have her very well trained," Jensen says flatly. "Too bad you can't get her to pack up as easily."

"Oh, look who's talking about training her. Don't think I don't know what you did here," Jared says, turning back to Jensen with an accusing look. "How many of those Waldo books am I gonna have to buy now?"

"There are seven total," Jensen says. "We have a great sale going right now. Buy three, get the other four free."

"Oh, gee," Jared says, rolling his eyes as he reaches for his wallet. "I'd expect you to advertise a deal like that somewhere in the store."

"The poster is right next to the ad for free babysitting," Jensen says, sticking out his tongue.

"Touché," Jared replies. "Did she earn a little stuffed horse?"

"I'd say," Jensen answers, raising his voice so Emma can hear, "she earned _two_ stuffed horses."

Emma finally manages to tear her eyes away from the book. Suddenly, she's packing all her things obediently and approaching her father with one pony in each hand, her big brown eyes rounder than a two-day-old Pomeranian's.

"You're the worst," Jared whispers to Jensen.

Jensen laughs. "Half off!"

"Still," he says, taking the toys and placing them on the counter so Jensen can scan them. "You're going to spoil her and I'll be the one that has to deal with it."

"Aw, but look at how cute she is," Jensen replies.

"That's how she gets you," Jared warns, shaking his head as he takes his bag from Jensen. "Hey man, thanks again. Really, I owe you big time."

Jensen waves him off. "Don't mention it. I had fun. And I'm glad your mom's doing alright."

"I'll see you around," Jared tells him.

"Yeah," Jensen says. He looks past Jared. "You keep working on Waldo, huh?"

"He doesn't stand a chance," Emma promises, saluting as she drags Jared out the door.

_______________________________________________________________

On Mondays, Jensen closes his shop at noon instead of the usual 7 p.m. He uses the afternoon hours to work on stocking shelves, ordering new toys to replace the ones that have sold, and, of course, busting his ass building dollhouse accessories.

For all Jensen loves it (and is good at it, thank you very much), it's tedious work. More than four hours at a time and he starts to get restless. So he jumps on the chance for some company when Jared calls and asks if he'd like to get a little lunch and decides to let the leopard print bedroom set he'd been putting together wait until next Monday.

Jared arrives about 20 minutes later, a white paper bag with grease stains soaking through in each hand and a smile on his face that makes up for whatever lost productivity Jensen is going to hate himself for tomorrow.

"Hey," Jared says when Jensen unlocks the door. "I thought I'd bring the food right to you."

"Stink up my whole store, why don't you?" Jensen replies in lieu of a greeting. "What, are you ashamed to be seen in public with me now?"

"Yup!" Jared's grin somehow gets even bigger, until it's straddling the line between 'charming' and 'shit-eating.' "Plus I thought if I brought the food to you you'd be forced to let me in the backroom."

Jensen lifts an eyebrow, leaves it to Jared to figure out just how wrong that sounded, and from the way Jared's cheeks redden, he gets it pretty quickly.

"I just want to see the elves in your workshop, you pervert."

Jensen takes one of the bags from Jared and claps him on the back. "Somehow, it got even creepier."

Jensen leads him through the store after he re-locks the door and into the cramped kitchen he hardly ever gets around to actually eating lunch in.

Jared looks around the room and shakes his head sadly. "This is all the space you give the little guys for their breaks? Those elves should unionize."

"The only person being overworked and mistreated by my company is me, I assure you." Jensen pulls a chair out, as much as it'll go before it bumps into the cabinet, and squeezes his way in, grabbing one of the paper bags from Jared. "Burgers and fries? I guess you're past trying to impress me."

"These happen to be the best burgers in the state," Jared says. "My pal Chad works the grill at this bar, and I'm telling you, they are the best kept secret in Texas."

Jensen unwraps his burger and studies it carefully. "This the same Chad who tried to trade Emma for a donkey at the state fair last year because he wanted to know what ass tastes like and wasn't willing to go gay to find out?"

Jared snorts. "Forgot I told you about that. Same guy, but I promise his burgers are the only things about him that aren't questionable."

"What were you doing at a bar before noon on a Monday, anyway?"

Jared shrugs, taking a few fries and shoving them in his mouth. "I was bored."

"Oh man, this is so sad." Jensen puts his burger down before he can even try it and gives Jared a solemn look. "You are so obvious."

"Obvious about what? Who's obvious?"

Jensen sighs dramatically. "Here I thought you wanted to hang out with me."

"I do want to hang out with you!" Jared leans forward in his chair, giving Jensen puppy eyes. "I brought you burgers. How can you doubt me?"

"Chad made you leave the bar, huh?"

Jared pouts, but eventually he nods.

"And you didn't want to go home. Because you have Empty Nest Syndrome."

"I do _not_ have—"

"You do. Your kid is in first grade and you already have Empty Nest Syndrome. Is that adorable or pathetic? Adoratic? Pathetable?"

"I hate you," Jared replies, bunching up a napkin and throwing it at Jensen. "You're terrible support."

Jensen just keeps laughing until finally Jared makes a huffy sound and says, "Okay, fine. I hate the first month of school. I really do, I hate it. I hated it last year, too. I probably will every year. I don't know what to do with myself. I mean, the first week or two it's awesome, right? Finally some me time. For video games or reading books or just lying around in the _peace and quiet_. And then suddenly I realize I have no one to play with! My routine has been destroyed! I sit around counting down the hours until I can go pick Emma up. It’s a sad life."

Jensen laughs, finally taking a bite of his burger, and making a pornographic sound as soon as he tastes it. "Wow, you weren't lying."

"They make the BBQ sauce there at the bar, and I've been trying to convince the owner to bottle it and sell it to me for three years, but alas, for now that's the only place I can get it," Jared says, looking stupidly proud of himself. "Tell me I've made your day better. I live to serve."

"You need to get out more," Jensen says. "But yeah, I can't pretend I'm too broken up that you had nothing better to do with your Monday than bring me this burger."

Jared grins and keeps eating, and Jensen was either hungrier than he thought or the burger was even better than he realized, because he's finishing the last of his fries before he's able to put together another thought, and Jared still has half of his food in front of him.

"You should come work for me," he says, before he can really think about it, and Jared raises his head, looking confused.

"I thought it was just you working here?" Jared huffs a laugh. "And the elves, of course."

"Well, it is at the moment," Jensen agrees. "Doesn't mean that can't change."

Jared shakes his head. "Come on, you're not gonna screw up your budget just because I get bored."

"But I think it could actually be a really good move. Look, I have to shut down most of the day on Mondays to get any work done, and that's the only day I get to focus all week. If I had someone working out front in the mornings, maybe just a few days a week, I would be able to produce more, be open more hours, and not be as exhausted all the time."

"You're serious?" Jared narrows his eyes. "Is it 'cause the burger was so good?"

Jensen shrugs. "Only if you're interested. Hadn't really thought of it before, but it seems like a win-win now."

"No, yeah. I could definitely use some work. But, like, not unless you really think it'll be good for the store."

"Wouldn't be offering it out of charity," Jensen says with a grin. "This place is my baby."

"You trust me alone with your baby?" Jared says, a wicked gleam in his eye.

"You trusted me with yours," Jensen answers, not realizing how soft it comes out until the playful look on Jared's face changes into something else entirely. A warm, subdued smile that kind of breaks Jensen's heart.

He coughs and looks away, gathering the trash from their lunch as a distraction. "I should get to work. Tiny furniture sets aren't gonna paint themselves, you know."

"Can I watch?" Jared asks, popping up from his chair with his usual energy, a peppy smile on his face as if the moment has passed for him, too, but there's something lingering in his expression, and he won't meet Jensen's eyes.

"Sure, but, uh…it's gonna be pretty boring." Jensen holds the door and leads Jared across the hall. "Just me squinting at—"

"Holy crap, Jensen," Jared says as soon as he steps into the workroom. Jensen feels his cheeks flush. "Dude, how long did this take?"

The room is fairly small, like the kitchen, but the walls are all lined with rows of shelves, all full of houses and accessories Jensen is shipping out or not ready to display yet.

"Six hours every Monday for the last three years?" Jensen says, scratching the back of his neck. "You're not allowed to make fun of me."

Jared breaks out into a laugh anyway. "Is that a leopard print bedroom you're working on now? Is this for some 80-year-old lady doll's bedroom?"

"These are modeled off my own bedroom, actually," Jensen says, keeping his voice and his expression straight until Jared glances up at him in shock, and then he can't help smirking. "Shut up, Jared! Who doesn't love leopard print?"

"You're too much," he says. He pulls up the stool Jensen usually uses to reach the higher shelves and sits, gesturing at the work table. "Well, don't mind me. Do your thing. Millions of little old lady dolls depend on you."

Jensen grumbles out a half-hearted 'I hate you' as he takes his seat and warns Jared again that he'll be bored if he stays, but Jared just makes a dismissive sound and leans in for a better view.

Much to his own surprise, Jensen finds it pretty easy to work with Jared watching once he gets into it. Jared talks as much as ever, rambling from one end of the workroom to the next, but he doesn't mind when Jensen only grunts responses or gets so distracted he has to ask Jared to repeat himself five times.

He's pretty perfect background music, actually, and Jensen doesn't start to get restless nearly as quickly as he usually does.

"Monopoly board," Jared says, continuing to list off every single dollhouse accessory he finds that he can't believe exists. "Oh, and you included the teeny, tiny little pieces."

"And the Community Chest and Chance cards," Jensen agrees, only half paying attention.

"Renoir. How nice that the dolls get to have actual Renoirs. All I have are posters." Jared takes a step and laughs. "Oh, thank god. A tiny doll Declaration of Independence. So we know doll Nicolas Cage doesn't get bored."

Jensen snorts. "I am not making a doll Nicolas Cage, you couldn't pay me."

" _The New York Times_. Ritz crackers. Are these Huggies diapers?" Jared shakes his head. "Jensen, I don’t know whether to be impressed by you or feel really, really sad."

"Fuck you," Jensen says, dragging the second word out. "I have a passion! A gift!"

"For making little doll trash cans?" he holds the toy out to Jensen, as if Jensen's never seen it. "There is actual garbage inside. There is a wrapper for Scott's toilet paper. These dolls _take shits_ , Jensen!"

"I love how that's the thing you really can't get past."

"I'm just worried about you, man," Jared replies. "All tiny dollhouse accessories and no play makes Jensen a dull boy."

"I am not a dull boy. I am an artist. See," he says, turning the piece he's been working on so Jared can see every angle. "All done."

"This is amazing," Jared says, peering close. He reaches out, then stops himself, as if he's as worried as Jensen sort of was that those big hands will crush his hard work. "I couldn’t paint something that detailed on a regular-sized wardrobe."

Jensen grins, picking it up and standing. "That's why they pay me the big bucks."

He walks a few steps, over to the shelf he uses to leave things that need to dry, and feels a big hand cover his as soon as he puts it down, a strong chest pressing against his back.

"Jared?" He turns slowly, not wanting to shake anything, and Jared is _right there_.

He pushes Jensen lightly, just a few inches, until he's pressed up to the metal shelves, and Jensen worries for half a second that his ass will bump up and smash some tiny rocking chair, but then Jared's mouth is on his, and he thinks _screw the rocking chair_ as he reaches up, gets his hand in Jared's hair.

"Jensen," Jared whispers, pulling away only long enough to get a better angle. "God, Jensen."

All he can do is moan into it, pushing his hips forward when Jared slides a hand over his crotch.

Jared laughs at his desperation. "Got some unfinished business, don't we?"

Jensen nods and watches Jared drop to his knees. There's hardly enough room for two people in the cramped workroom, but Jared's making it work.

Then he unzips Jensen's jeans, pulls his dick out and Jensen hears him say, "I want you so bad, Jen. No one gets hurt if it's just one time, right?"

If you'd asked Jensen five minutes ago if there was anything that could make him call off sex with Jared, he would have said hell no. But his instincts tell a different story. He pulls back, making Jared look up, and shakes his head as soon as he catches Jared's eyes.

Jared stands immediately. "What's wrong?"

"Me," Jensen says, tucking his dick away and giving Jared a sorry smile. "Look, I want this, I do. But…I will get hurt if it's just one time. Jared, I have feelings for you. And if you want to try to be more than friends, I am so willing to try, but if it's gonna be one time…"

He shRUGS and Jared nods, backing off enough to give Jensen space. "This sucks."

"Yeah."

Jensen licks his lips, trying to think of what else to say, and instead, Jared takes his handS and talks to the floor more than to Jensen. "If there was a way to be fair to you about it—"

"I know, Jared," Jensen says. "I know, we talked about it. I get it. But if we're just gonna be friends, that's how I need it to be. Because if we keep slipping…I'm trying to move on, I am."

"I wish every day that we'd met at some different point in our lives." Jared looks up and gives Jensen a crooked smile. "I'm not stupid enough to think you'll still be waiting around for me when I can start dating again. Someone's gonna sweep you up before then. Whoever he is, he's going to be a very lucky man."

Jensen smiles back, mostly because he has no idea what else to do, but all he can think is _I want it to be you_.

After a few tense seconds, Jared squeezes his hands and drops them. "I should get going. School's almost out."

"Look at that," Jensen says, forcing a laugh, and Jared looks grateful for it. "We killed the time after all."

"You're a lifesaver," Jared says, sticking his tongue out.

He calls out as Jared is leaving, and Jared turns.

"If you were serious about taking the job, swing by Thursday morning? I'll see if I can figure out paperwork by then."

Jared grins, and Jensen thinks he's probably going to regret this.

_______________________________________________________________

"So." Jensen turns toward the voice and finds Jared draped over his counter. "What would you say to being very naughty tonight?"

Jensen coughs and Jared grins, obviously pleased to have caught him off guard.

"Naughty like—"

"Like close shop a few hours early. Come have dinner and watch a movie with me and Emma."

"It's Friday," Jensen says. "I can't close down early on a Friday evening."

"You can, actually, because you're the boss," Jared says, pushing his bottom lip out and making a puppy face. "Please?"

"I would lose money," Jensen replies, pointedly not looking at Jared, because they both know he's going to cave, but damned if seeing that face won't make it impossible to even put up a fight. "As my employee, this is the opposite of what you're supposed to do."

"You're right," Jared says, nodding seriously. He lifts his arm to check his watch and smirks. "My shift is over in two minutes. I'm going to go clock out and then come talk to you about this."

Jensen huffs a laugh and pulls him back. "Fine, fine, I'm on board."

Jared does a fist pump into the air and hands Jensen his name tag. "I'll go pick the little lady up from school, then we'll swing by here to get you?"

"Yeah, but if you stop to get ice cream and don't bring me a cone, don't even bother showing your face here again, you're fired."

Jared's smile widens (Jensen's no scientist, but he's willing to bet it’s about the same size and brightness as the actual surface of the sun), and he leaves the shop with a definite spring in his step.

Forty-five minutes later, he's back with Emma on one arm and a half eaten cone of mint chocolate chip ice cream in the other.

"I didn't know what flavored you’d want," he says, smiling as he hands the cone to Jensen. "So I just got you my favorite."

"And then ate half of it," Jensen replies. "How thoughtful of you."

"He ate half of mine, too," Emma says, glaring at the nearly empty cup of strawberry ice cream in her sticky little hands.

"Your dad is the worst, huh?" Jensen asks.

"I guess not the worst," Emma says. "But I do wish he hadn't eaten my ice cream."

"It's okay to feel like you have to be loyal to him," Jensen tells her. "I know the truth."

Jared swats at him with his now-free hand, and Jensen dodges the hit, taking a smug lick from the ice cream cone.

"Okay, you promised," Jared says, staring at Jensen's mouth and then blinking a few times. "No more work. It's the weekend."

"I'm open on weekends," Jensen grumbles, but he does start to empty out the register. "You wanna flip the open sign?"

"Oh, let me do it!" Emma says, pushing so Jared will put her down. As soon as her feet touch the ground, she runs to the door and flips the sign, looking ridiculously pleased with herself and too adorable to be real.

"Thanks, Emma," Jensen tells her, watching as Jared locks the door. "When you're done with school, you can come work for me. You can be your dad's manager."

"Hey wait a minute," Jared says. "I've got seniority. Like…12 years of it by the time she graduates."

"Yeah, but she's got spunk." Jensen looks at Emma. "Would you like that? Being your daddy's boss?"

"Okay," she agrees. "As long as you pay me in toys."

Jared and Jensen share a short look and both start laughing. Jensen finishes locking up after that, and then they set out, walking hand in hand in hand down the street, Emma swinging between them every few steps. It's the kind of trip home, Jensen thinks that maybe he wishes he could get used to, and every time Emma lands, giggling and asking to be picked up again, his chest aches a little more.

They get to Jared's after about twenty minutes. Jared opens the door and lets him in, laughing at Jensen as he rubs his sore arm. "You think it's bad now? She makes me carry her everywhere."

"Yeah, well, at least you're used to it," Jensen replies, giving Jared's bicep a squeeze. "I didn't realize having a kid was such a rigorous exercise routine."

"How do you think I work off the ice cream?" Jared teases, mouth curving up as he looks down at Jensen.

Jensen realizes he's still groping Jared's very large, very well-muscled arm and lets go immediately, dropping it and coughing uncomfortably. 

"So, food," he says. It's as smooth a recovery as he's likely to get. "I was told there would be dinner. Want me to call for a pizza?"

"I was gonna make my specialty," Jared says, sounding hurt. Then he snorts and rolls his eyes at himself. "Spaghetti and meatballs because I am a lousy cook."

"He makes yummy spaghetti though," Emma says, appearing at Jensen's side, seemingly out of nowhere. She's holding a toy Jensen vaguely recognizes as something he sold Jared months ago, and she takes his hand, dragging him away from the living room. "You can come see all your old friends so you know I'm taking good care of them."

Jensen smiles and lets her lead him away as Jared disappears into the kitchen. The first thing he notices is the crappy purple plastic Barbie Dreamhouse shoved in the corner of Emma's bedroom. He shakes his head at it, then realizes this is probably a really weird thing for a grown man to be snobby about. 

In the opposite corner, there's a beanbag chair and a few shelves, all piled high with stuffed animals. Many of them are from Puzzles, but some of them must be from before Jared discovered his shop, because Jensen isn't familiar with them.

He quickly gets pulled in as Emma goes through the collection, explaining where she got them and what their names are and telling him life stories that she somehow manages to keep in order, even if Jensen has already forgotten half the names. She's got a great imagination and a flair for the dramatic, and when Jared knocks on the doorframe to get their attention, Jensen almost wants to tell him to give them five more minutes, because he really wants to hear how the story ends.

Emma, on the other hand, has already switched modes. "Dinner!" she says excitedly, running up to Jared, who bends down to accept a hug. "Are we going to watch _Frozen_?"

Jared huffs a laugh and smiles as he pushes some hair out of her face. "Sure, baby. We can watch _Frozen_. Why don't you go get it set up?"

She nods and runs off toward the living room, and Jared stands, giving Jensen a resigned look. "Dude, I have seen this fucking movie so many times I am going to go insane."

Jensen laughs. "No spoilers. All I know is that Idina Menzel is in it."

Jared blinks at him a few times, and Jensen shrugs. "What? Girl can sing!"

"Musical theatre," Jared says, clearly trying to contain his laughter. "You really are pretty gay, huh?"

"Yup," Jensen chirps. He pokes Jared in the side to get him to move out into the hallway, and they walk to the kitchen, Jensen collecting his bowl and Jared taking one for himself and one for Emma out to the living room.

She's already sitting on the couch with the DVD queued up, and she beckons Jensen over to sit next to her. Jared hands her a bowl and offers to go get drinks, setting his own down on the end table by the couch. By the time he gets back, the movie has started, so he turns off the lights and takes a crammed spot on Emma's other side. She pretty much ignores him, much too busy trying to get her entire bowl of spaghetti to stay on her fork at once.

_______________________________________________________________

"Okay, come on. They think she needs to make out with the dude. Then they think she needs to make out with the other dude. Then it turns out it's the sister she needed all along—it's not even a little bit incest-y to you?"

"You're destroying my childhood," Jared says, shooting Jensen a look. "It's about how different kinds of love can be just as meaningful. Stop making it creepy."

Jensen laughs, dipping his hand into the soaking pot Jared had boiled the water for their pasta in and booping him on the nose with the suds. "Your childhood is long out of my reach, old man."

"I'd say look who's talking, but you just booped me with soap bubbles," Jared says, rubbing the back of his arm over his face. "You are just a big kid, aren't you?"

"Hell yeah," Jensen replies.

Emma bursts into the kitchen then—half a minute too late to hear Jensen's long list of terrible person thoughts about her favorite movie, thank god—and stares up at them. "The credits ended and Marshmallow put on Elsa's crown and you missed it."

"I'm sure I'll catch it again tomorrow," Jared mumbles to the pile of dishes in the sink, and Jensen laughs.

"You wanna play it again and I'll come see it with you?" Jensen offers.

"No," Emma says, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm bored now."

"Why don't you show Jensen that project we've been working on, huh?"

Emma's face lights up. "You're gonna love this."

She skips back out to the dining room, and Jensen gives Jared a confused look. Jared raises his hands as if to declare his innocence, which of course makes Jensen no less suspicious. Seeing he's not going to get a straight answer, he follows Emma out into the dining room, where she's already standing on one of the chairs, inspecting the table surface. 

Jensen can't hold back his laugh when he sees the mess of puzzle pieces spread out all over, a clear answer as to why they ate on the couch instead of in the dining room, and picks up the box. "A _Where's Waldo?_ puzzle?" Jensen asks.

Emma grins. "You like it, right?" She looks at the pieces nearest to her, her forehead creasing and her little tongue poking out in concentration, then excitedly picks one piece up and hands it to Jensen. "See? I already found Waldo. Now I'll know where he is when the picture's done."

"I think that's cheating," Jensen says, handing the piece back to her.

"Hmm," she says, appearing to think it over very hard for all of ten seconds before she shakes her head. "I've decided I don't agree with you."

Jensen laughs as he says, "Fair enough."

She reaches over the table, still standing to be able to reach for pieces, and Jensen takes the seat at the end, beginning to pick out edges. "Besides, you guys are never going to finish like this. Let me teach you a trick my dad taught me about puzzles."

Emma puts her fat little fists on her hips and gives Jensen a scolding look, and he wishes with everything in him that he had a camera. "Isn't that cheating?"

"Nah," Jensen says. "This, my friend, is strategy."

She drops her arms to her sides and gives Jensen a grin. "I guess if it's strategy."

When Jared reenters, he takes a seat off to the side, declining Jensen's invitation that he join them.

"I'll just watch," he says. "Turns out I'm pretty terrible at puzzles, and it looks like you guys have everything pretty much under control." He smiles, leaning back in his chair. "Hey, Emma. What's the word of the day?"

Emma pauses her work on the bottom edge and her face scrunches up in concentration. After a few seconds, she apparently gives up, pointing instead and saying, "That's Jensen."

"Right answer," Jared says, pulling her onto his lap and blowing a raspberry against her neck. "Wrong question."

Emma giggles, apparently fine with being called out on her evasion technique, and Jared gives Jensen a guilty look. "I guess maybe copacetic was a little too optimistic?"

"You think?" he replies, lifting an eyebrow.

"She still uses intricate, though. And jalopy."

"And pachyderm," Emma says excitedly. "Pachyderm, pachyderm, pachyderm."

Jared covers her ears. "I suspect she doesn't actually know what that one means and just likes saying it."

"That's not true!" Emma insists.

"Oh yeah?" Jared asks, tugging on her hair.

"Yeah!"

"Use it in a sentence, then."

Emma smiles. "Pachyderm is my favorite word."

"That is a sentence," Jensen says, even as Jared begins to punish her by tickling her.

Emma bends over, laughing hysterically, and yelling the word 'pachyderm' as if she's hoping an elephant will appear from the sky and free her from her tickling prison.

When Jared finally stops, Emma hops off his lap as she fights to regain her breath and climbs up onto to Jensen's instead. "You have to protect me from him," she says, pointing at her dad. "He's a lunatic."

"I believe you," Jensen says. "And will die to keep you safe."

"Don't think I won't tickle you, too," Jared says, wiggling his fingers and letting out a menacing laugh.

Jensen pointedly ignores him and goes back to teaching Emma how to build a puzzle from the outsides in, and by the time she starts yawning, they have a pretty decent amount of the puzzle set up.

He looks up at the clock hanging over the kitchen entrance, realizes it's gotten kinda late. "Hey, I should probably get going pretty soon."

"Nuh uh," Emma says. "Tomorrow is Saturday and Daddy makes chocolate chip pancakes. You can spend the night and have pancakes tomorrow."

Jared laughs, but it sounds a little forced. "C'mon, sweetie. Let's let Jensen go home, huh? It's almost your bedtime, anyway."

"I want Jensen to read me my story tonight," she says. "I promise I'll still practice."

Jared gives him a questioning look, and Jensen shrugs.

"Alright," Jared says. "Let's get you changed and brush your teeth, then."

Emma nods and heads off to her room, though she isn't running or hopping with half as much energy as she'd had earlier. Jared scratches the back of his neck. "Look, you don't have to do story time if you don't want to. She probably won't even remem—"

"I'd like to," Jensen says. "Unless you'd rather I didn't?"

Jared gives him a soft little smile and shakes his head. "She reads every other page, if she can. She likes it when I do voices for the characters, but you don't have to do voices."

"I can do voices," Jensen says. "You think Idina Menzel is all I know about theatre?"

Jared laughs, and then Jensen feels a little hand tugging on his. He looks down, and Emma's wearing a wooly purple sleep dress and holding a book out to him. "This one's my favorite."

Jensen follows her back to her room, watches Jared tuck her in and then sits down on the edge of the bed, opening the book.

"I can't see it like that," she says, pulling him closer. She snuggles up to his side and Jensen looks over to Jared to make sure he's okay with it. Jared nods as Jensen hands her half the book, and she starts reading.

They go on from there, switching off on every other page, and Jensen helps Emma with the words she can't pronounce, until it gets to her page and he realizes she's fallen asleep. He smiles at her tiny snores, presses a kiss to the top of her head, and carefully shifts her just enough so he can stand. Then he looks up and sees Jared leaning against the doorframe, watching them with this tender little smile, and Jensen kind of feels like crying.

He puts the book down on her nightstand, turning off the lamp by her bed and whispering goodnight. When he gets out to the hall, Jared shuts the door, careful not to let it make a sound.

"Guess I really should go now," Jensen says, surprised none of his words catch. He feels like there's a weight crushing his chest, and he moves forward, wanting so badly to kiss Jared, to beg him to let him stay and be a part of this.

Jared licks his lips and nods, looking away. "You don't have to."

Jensen's heart picks up, but when Jared looks back up at him, all the warmth Jensen thought he'd seen is gone. Jared is giving him a casual smile. A friendly smile. "You could crash on the couch. If you wanna, like, stick around, have some wine…" Jared shrugs. "I do make pretty great pancakes."

The offer doesn't sound entirely genuine. Jared sounds kind of put out, and Jensen doesn't want to sleep on his couch and have breakfast and leave. He realizes he wants a lot more than that, and he can't really say it, can't tell Jared how right it felt to read his daughter to sleep and help him make dinner and how wrong it feels to have somewhere else to go when he's done here. At least, not without sounding crazy.

"No, I think it's better if I go," he says, giving Jared a tight smile. "Shop'll be open in the morning, so it wouldn't make sense to—"

"Yeah," Jared agrees. "I get it."

And Jensen wonders if he does get it, or if he believes Jensen's excuse and doesn't actually get it at all.

_______________________________________________________________

"Okay," Misha says, bracing his hands on the marble surface of his kitchen island and giving Jensen a long, probing look. "Who are you and what have you done with Jensen?"

"What?" Jensen frowns. "I don't get it."

"You're talking about Jared again," Misha says. "The same Jared you've been talking about for the last two hours. The same Jared you've been talking about for the last four months."

"I like him," Jensen says. "I'm not allowed to like someone?"

"No, you are," Misha says. "Of course you are. It's just, you don’t usually stay hung up on people this long."

"Are you saying I can't commit?" Jensen asks, and he knows he's kind of trying to derail what he's sure will be a very accurate psychological reading of his current mental state, but his pride is also a little bit at stake here. "I can totally commit! Committing has never been my problem. I was with Matt for three years." 

He decides to leave off _before I got bored_ because that was Matt's fault, not Jensen's, and it's not like Jared would ever get boring.

"I'm not saying you have a problem committing. I'm saying that when things don't work out, you usually don't have a problem cutting your losses. Moving on. In this situation you seem to be, um. Well, you seem to be—"

"You're pining," Vicki says, cutting through whatever diplomatic wording Misha was searching for. She picks up her notebook and flips through a few pages. "Exactly the type of behavior you, only six months ago, called 'desperate and pathetic.' What you need to do is try to understand what about this time is causing you to behave differently."

She returns to the current page, sets the pad back down on the table, and picks her pen up, an encouraging expression on her face that says she's all ready for Jensen to continue talking.

Jensen narrows his eyes. "Vicki, what have I told you about taking notes on my love life?"

Vicki does a double take at the pen and paper in her hand as if she hadn't even realized she was doing it, then closes the notebook and shoves it toward the middle of the island, giving Jensen a sheepish smile and picking up her wine glass, presumably to make sure her hands are busy _not_ taking notes.

"Sorry, dearest. You know how we academics are," she says, batting her eyes innocently.

"I'm not trying to talk to sexologist Vicki, or whatever you people call yourselves. I'm looking to talk to friend Vicki."

"Oh, thank god," she says, putting her wine glass down. "In that case, I can be straight with you. You're in love with him, you fucking idiot."

Jensen blinks a few times, then shakes his head. "Naw," he says. "I'm not _in love_ with him. I'm—he's…"

"Yes? Go on, Jensen. I'm all ears," Vicki says, clearly enjoying whatever bamboozled face Jensen is making.

He stutters for a few seconds longer before Vicki snorts, pours herself another glass of wine, and points to her husband. "Misha, honey. Put your friend out of his misery. Tell him he's in love with the perfect, tall, dimpled, funny single father he won't shut up about."

"I'm trying not to get involved," Misha says. He gives Jensen a thumbs up that screams 'I'm with ya, buddy' and also 'but I can't say anything because my wife is 100% correct and you're in denial.'

Jensen sighs, dropping his head onto the marble, and doesn't look up until he feels Misha's hand on his back. His friend is holding out his wineglass, refilled, and giving him a sympathetic look. "I know, I know," he says. "Love. It's a terrible thing to be in."

"What was that?" Vicki asks.

"Nothing, dear, the wind blowing too strongly, you must have misheard."

She rolls her eyes, and Misha continues, "It's really not such a bad thing to come to terms with, Jensen. I know your relationship with Matt didn't end so great, but that was years ago. And he was kind of a douche, anyway. Jared's not a douche. West said so last week. He said Jared's the best for playing airplane because he's so tall and makes the best sounds. If that's not a good enough statement of his character, I have no idea what you're looking for."

"Can we all please try to remember that Jared's the one that didn't want to date _me_?"

"He didn't not want to date you," Misha says. "He didn't want to bring you into his kid's life unless he knew you were serious. The only thing standing between you and happily ever after is you taking the step and showing Jared you want to commit. Which you do."

"I mean, if you devoted the time and effort to the relationship that you've devoted to whining about the lack of it…" Vicki mumbles.

"Okay, so assuming you guys are right. Which I'm not, by the way, confirming that you are. But if you were. How do I show him I'm ready?"

"Ah," Misha says, shaking his head. "You must search your heart for the answer."

"A non-hippie answer from you, Vicki?"

Vicki throws her hands up. "I'm afraid my hippie husband is right on this one. We can't tell you what to do."

Jensen bites his bottom lip, and then his eyes catch on something purple and castle-shaped, stuck to Misha and Vicki's freezer with a big yellow 'E' magnet.

He points to the invitation. "You guys going to that?"

Misha looks confused by the subject change, but he turns his head to see what Jensen's pointing at, then nods with a shrug. "Emma's birthday party? Sure, of course. West is convinced if we don't, Emma will never forgive him and then she won't agree to be his wife in twenty years."

Jensen does some math in his head and feels himself smiling. He remembers the first time Jared mentioned the party to him, when he was first brainstorming presents he could get her. He said that his gifts were usually the ones that got forgotten, because Gen could afford to buy much nicer toys. 

_I know it's not a competition,_ Jared had told him. _I just wish I could be the hero for once, you know? And give her something she really loves, instead of whatever's on sale after rent and groceries._

The party is in just under a month, and Jensen has the perfect way to show Jared he's ready to be serious.

"Good. I might need your help with something."

"With what?" Misha asks, clearly alarmed by whatever look of triumph has come into Jensen's expression. "What are you planning?"

"Can't talk right now, Mish," Jensen says, giving Vicki a kiss on the cheek, downing the rest of his wine, and handing the empty glass to Misha with a sturdy pat on the back. "I've gotta go search my heart."

_______________________________________________________________

Emma's birthday is on a sunny, late September Saturday. It's still warm enough under the early-fall Texas sun for an inflatable pool and a slip-n-slide, and by the time Jensen arrives (over an hour late), there are already more shrieking children in bathing suits laughing and chasing each other around than Jensen would have thought could fit in the cramped, shared backyard of Jared's apartment building.

There's a barbecue smoking, burgers and hot dogs coming off the grill, manned by a blonde dude with bleary eyes, and Jensen briefly wonders if this is the famous Chad. Then the guy picks up a hose and starts running down children with it, and Jensen takes that as his answer.

He's still laughing at that when he feels a big, warm hand on his shoulder, and Jared's familiar voice is in his ear. "Hey. I was worried you guys wouldn’t make it."

Jensen turns to see Jared is now focused on Misha and West, shaking Misha's hand and welcoming them in.

"My wife, Vicki," Misha says, turning to point her out.

Jared smiles and takes her hand. "Vicki!" he says warmly. "I've heard about you existing."

"Not as much as I've heard about you, I promise," she replies.

Jensen feels his entire face turning red and decides now's a good time to distract himself. He looks around for the birthday girl and isn't surprised to find her standing just next to her dad.

Emma is wearing a light pink dress with ruffles on the sleeves. Compared to the other kids, she's still dry, no bathing suit in sight, her hair carefully done up around her pointed pink party hat.

Jensen bends down for a hug and picks her up, giving her a quick spin. "There's the birthday princess."

Emma holds her hand up, all five fingers for Jensen to see, plus one from her other hand. "I'm this many now."

Jensen gives her open palm a high five and she laughs, shoving him playfully. "No, silly. I'm six years old."

"Well, if that doesn't deserve a high five, what does?" Jensen puts her back on the ground and ruffles her hair, and she laughs cheerfully. As soon as Misha sets West down, she leads him off to take his present to the pile of other gifts.

"She not gonna play in the pool?" Jensen asks, turning to give Jared a smile.

Jared gestures across the party, to the picnic table where West is helping Emma shake presents, and he sees Gen with a camera, snapping away every few seconds. "Mom has ruled that she has to stay nice and neat for pictures, at least until after she opens presents and has some cake. Emma was not happy about it, but then people started showing up and telling her how pretty she looks."

He shrugs as if to indicate that this explains it all, and then he gives Jensen a smile that he chooses to believe is just for him. "You know, I wasn't expecting you to come."

"You weren't?" he asks, frowning a little. "You thought I'd miss Emma's big day?"

"Well, I know Saturdays are your busiest day at the shop and that closing today means—"

Jensen places his hand on Jared's bicep until Jared stops talking and looks up at him. "That's not as important to me."

"Jensen," Jared says, his voice too soft for Jensen to be sure it's as pained as it sounds. Whatever he was about to say, he stops himself, shaking his head and giving Jensen one of those empty smiles he has sometimes. "You're just in time for presents and cake. I promised Emma we'd do them early so she could change and start having some fun."

Jensen smirks. "The party doesn't really start until I get here, huh?"

"Yeah," Jared says, rolling his eyes. "We were just waiting for you to arrive."

Jensen helps Jared wrangle kids until everyone is gathered around the picnic table, where Emma sits like a tiny queen accepting tribute, tearing through the wrapping on the gifts her mother picks out of the pile for her until she reaches Jensen's.

She unwraps the box with no less excitement than the others, but she pauses once she sees what's inside, staring with her mouth hanging open until Jared comes up behind her and grins at the doll, then up at Jensen.

"Show your friends what you got, sweetie," he says.

Emma lifts the doll delicately out of the box, but instead of showing her off like she'd done with all her other toys, she brings this one up close to inspect it, apparently forgetting anyone else is there.

Jensen is feeling a little smug, and this is only the tip of the iceberg.

"She's me," Emma says, mesmerized as she turns the doll over and then looks up at her dad. "Daddy, look! She looks exactly like me!"

"She does," he agrees. "Why don't you thank Jensen for the pretty doll?"

"You made it?" she asks. "You made it just for me?"

"Yeah," Jensen says, not able to hold his smile back. "Do you like her?"

"She's the best dolly in the whole world," Emma says.

Jared laughs, patting her on the head. "Who's ready for cake?"

"Wait," Jensen says. "There's one more present."

He gestures at Misha to come with him and looks to Jared and Gen. "Give me a minute? This one is kind of fragile, didn't want it sitting on the table."

Gen shrugs to say she's okay with it, but Jared's face flickers from confused to suspicious to annoyed all within a few seconds. Jensen turns away and starts heading for the car before Jared can try to stop him.

Together, Misha and Jensen carry the dollhouse he built Emma out of the back of Misha's van and place it carefully on the table. Behind her, Jared is shaking his head frantically, but Emma is standing up on the picnic table bench, jumping up and down as soon as she sees it.

"This one's from your dad," Jensen tells her. "It's just the right size for your new doll."

"Mine," she asks, her eyes big and wide and she looks like she might cry she's so excited. "Really? It's mine? I can have it?"

"Yeah," Jensen says.

He looks up at Jared, hoping to see a smile, but Jared is clearly pissed. He grabs Jensen's arm and tugs it. "I need to talk to you. In my kitchen. Right now."

Jensen nods, not entirely confused, but a little bummed. He suspected, maybe, Jared might not get this right away. He knew he would have to take a stand, try to let Jared know exactly what he's trying to say. He was hoping Jared would not be this upset going into it.

"Gen, just—"

"I've got it under control," she says, nodding.

Emma is still too busy exploring the dollhouse to notice what's going on, and most of the other kids have gathered around, 'ooh'ing and 'aah'ing and giving the dollhouse envious looks.

It's a three-story climb up the fire escape to Jared's apartment, and Jensen is out of breath when they get to the top, but Jared wastes no time shutting the door and rounding on him.

"What the fuck, Jensen?" he asks. "You _know_ I can't afford that. How the hell do you expect me to go down there and tell her she can't have it?"

"It's a gift," Jensen says. "I wouldn't take it back if you tried."

"I cannot accept a gift like—Jensen, I know how much that thing costs. A few discounts here and there are one thing, but—"

"Your cards," Jensen points out. "I've sold almost all of them. At $6 a pop that's—"

"Still not even almost enough to pay off a $2,000 dollhouse."

"Let me finish? The cards are selling like hotcakes. That almost completely pays for materials."

"Which, we both know, is not nearly as much of the cost as the labor is," Jared replies coolly. "How many hours did you spend on that thing? How many hours that you should have spent on something you could sell?"

"About a month, I haven't worked on anything else," Jensen admits.

Jared turns his back on Jensen slamming his hands on the counter. "Goddamn it, Jensen. You can't just do shit like this without asking me."

"Look, a bunch of those kids down there are going to want one, too. They'll go home telling their parents about it. Statistically, someone is bound to be able to afford to get one, and there's only one place they can go, so if you look at it as advertising—"

"It's still not nearly enough to cover your losses." Jared lets out a nasty laugh. "I can't let you give us that house. But do you have any idea how much it's gonna break her heart now to lose it? How much it's gonna break my heart to have to do that to her?"

"Don't do that to her." Jensen swallows hard and takes a step forward, putting his hand on Jared's shoulder. "Jared, look at me."

Grudgingly, Jared does, leaning back against the cabinets. He's making a pinched face, his lips thinned, but Jensen doesn't let the expression deter him.

"I love you," Jensen says. Jared gasps a little, his mouth opening like he's going to try and make a retort, but Jensen stops him with his fingers over Jared's lips. If he doesn't get this out now, he might never be able to get his courage up again.

"I love you. I love your daughter. I love being with you guys and feeling like a part of your family. I'm ready for that. I want it. The dollhouse was a statement. I wanted to show you—to have something physical I could point to and say: look. I am willing to give you guys every moment I have. I want to do that."

Jensen takes a deep breath. Jared doesn't respond, so Jensen doesn't know if this is falling completely flat, but at least he doesn't seem pissed anymore. So he keeps going.

"I want to see her face light up like it did when we brought it out. I want to close my store every now and then to spend time with you. I don't care how much money I lose on it. I'm serious. I'm so ready to be serious if it's with you. I am several thousand dollars' worth of labor and materials to the wind serious and I have never made a better house than that because I was making it for her and I care about her. And I have a really weird set of skills, okay? I know that. This was all I could think of to show you—"

Jensen stops himself, shrugs, and looks down at his feet. "Anyway, that's why I did it. And whether you want to try to make this work with me or not is up to you. But either way. The house was a statement, and I've made it now, so. Please keep it."

Jared reaches out and tilts Jensen's chin up to look at him. Jensen feels naked—and not in a good way—under Jared's searching gaze.

"I know it's not easy for you to let someone into your life. Into her life. But if you'll let me try—I can't make any promises, but I really believe that we can—"

"Stop," Jared says. Jensen feels it like a punch in his gut, but then Jared's lips turn up in the corners, a tiny, tiny smile, but it cuts through all of Jensen's uncertainty. "God, Jensen, shut up. You didn't have to build a dollhouse to say that."

"I didn't?" Jensen asks.

"No. Fuck, I think about you all the time. When I'm not thinking about Emma, obviously. But…when I'm alone, when I'm trying to fall asleep. When I imagine us as a family, it's not just me and her anymore. And…I…Jesus, Jensen. I couldn't ask you. But I've been wishing you would say that to me for months."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," Jared replies, laughing a little. He reaches out, cups one big hand around the back of Jensen's neck and tugs, not hard enough to make Jensen kiss him, but he makes it easy for Jensen to let himself fall the rest of the way.

Jensen gets both of his hands in Jared's hair, deepens the kiss and loses all grip on reality until the sound of the door shutting and a surprised "oh, crap!" interrupts them.

They break apart and turn toward the noise and there's Gen, an awkward smile on her face. "Um…oops?" she says. "I have terrible timing. I was just—checking on the cake. The kids are getting impatient and—you know what? I'll just come back later."

Jensen laughs, tangles his fingers in Jared's shirt just to center himself, and hides his face against Jared's neck.

He can hear the smile in Jared's voice, too, when Jared responds, "Sorry, Gen. We'll, uh. Be right down. With the cake. In a moment."

"Yup!" Gen says, opening the door and stepping out. Jensen looks after her with just enough time to see how red her face is. "See you then."

When the door closes behind her, Jared meets his eyes for a few long seconds before they both lose it, devolving into hysterical laughter for at least a solid few minutes. When he finally regains control of himself, Jared stands up, taking a few deep breaths. "Okay. What do you say we bring the cake down?"

"That sounds good to me," Jensen agrees. "You carry the cake, I'll carry the candles. And the lighter. And then we can pretend this was a two man job."

Jared smiles at him, bites his bottom lip. He slides the cake onto the counter so it isn't stuck between them, then leans in close. "Next Friday, Emma is having a sleepover at her friend Anne's house," he says. He gives Jensen a quick, sweet kiss, then pulls back, keeping their foreheads pressed together. "You wanna come have a slumber party with me?"

"Will we talk about boys?" Jensen asks, pretending to consider it.

"I love you, too, you know," Jared says. Which doesn't seem to fit in the conversation all that well, but hey. Jensen will take it. "Just realized I hadn't said that yet. So in case you were wondering."

"There are five year olds being deprived cake for this," Jensen says. "Let's get down there before they riot."

Jared takes his hand and they walk back down to the party. Jared sets the cake down in front of Emma, but she only half notices it. He takes a seat on the bench, pulling Emma onto his lap and kissing her on the cheek.

"Is it really mine?" Jensen hears her whisper as he squeezes in on the bench next to them. "Do I really get to keep it?"

"Yeah," Jared says. "You really do."

"Did you make it for me?" she asks Jensen, holding her doll up. "Like you made her?"

Jensen nods. "But you should thank your dad for it."

"Thank you, Daddy!" she says, throwing her arms around Jared's neck and hugging him tight. "It's the best present ever. I love it so much."

Jensen sees the look on Jared's face as it softens, the surprised, easy happiness as he hugs her back, and he feels so happy he almost wants to cry. Except he is a grown man at a children's birthday party and he _refuses_.

Then Emma lets go of her dad and turns to look at Jensen. "I want one of Daddy, too," she whispers. "Can I?"

"Emma," Jared scolds. "Don't be—"

"And one of Mommy," she continues, ignoring Jared. Jared just sighs and decides to give up for the moment. She holds her doll up and smiles at it. "And I want one of you, so we can all live in the pretty house."

Jared catches his eye over his daughter's head, and Jensen feels a little better, because he kind of looks like he wants to cry, too.

"I think I can make that happen," Jensen promises, picking up the doll and playfully tapping her on the head with it. "By Christmas. If you're good."

"You're on," Emma replies, turning her attention to the candles on her cake.


End file.
